I may have mentioned that Maggie, the big Sheltie that occupies space in my house, has occasional flashes of intelligence that nearly equalz mine. Take last night when she was playing cars with Cat.
The treadle sewing machine on the stairway landing is my favorite place to sit. It gives me a perfect vantage point to gaze through the open stairway and watch Big Stupid (my loving nickname for Maggie) suck up to Cat.
Sometimes it works. Not like I'd ever lower myself to look sad-eyed in order to get a handful of popcorn, but it works for her. And she's also trained Cat to trade food she likes for stuff she's not supposed to have.
If only I had the power of speech, I'd tell poor Cat she's being suckered. Like last night's little toy cars.
Cat bought them for the boy that comes sometimes. He comes with Our Mark, the guy that calls her Mom. Anyway she came home one day with a whole package of those cars and the boy played with them and put them somewhere.
Maggie found them. Cat thought it was cute and said, "Trade, Maggie?" and gave her a puppy biscuit.
That was the red one. The dark blue one got her a peanut. The light blue one got her a cracker. The green one got her another biscuit. The yellow got her some puffcorn and Cat yelling, "Where are you finding those things?"
The best moment, the kind we cats live for when forced to share our abode with a dog, came when she found the white one.
"Give it up, dog, you cannot eat a Mustang!" Cat yelled as she threw yet another one of those hard biscuits at the dog and grabbed the car. Before Maggie could find the hidden cache of cars, Cat had her out the door and on her doggie cable on the front yard, out in the frozen snow.
Me, I enjoyed the show immensely. Enough so that tonight, when Big Stupid and Cat go to bed, I may knock all those confiscated cars off the dining room table and put them back under the sofa, right where I told Maggie she could find them.
Ah, yes, life can be sweet.
P.S. Remember, I can only get the good cat food if you buy Cat's books. Check them out at turquoisemorningpress.com